Cause We're Related
by AnimationNut
Summary: It's not easy having siblings. Candace is constantly frustrated by her talented brothers, Irving is constantly irritated by Albert, Heinz hordes a grudge against Roger and even Jenny gets annoyed by the free-spirited, artistic Django. But even though siblings sometimes don't get along, they're always there for each other. Collection of one-shots.
1. I Don't Hate You

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb.**

 **A collection of (maybe) ten one-shots, each centered around a different pair of siblings.**

 ** _Siblings:_** Candace, Phineas and Ferb

 **I Don't Hate You**

Candace Flynn stood stiffly underneath the shelter of the bus stop, pale hands gripping the sleek material of her dark red rain coat. Her brothers sat on the bench behind her, kicking their feet as they waited for the bus to come. Rain pounded against the glass and thunder rumbled overhead.

"This is ridiculous!" Candace finally snapped, glaring at the bus schedule mounted on the wall, protected by a plastic frame. "The stupid bus was supposed to be here ten minutes ago!"

"Maybe it's running late," offered Phineas. "It's really crazy out there."

Candace huffed and glowered through the glass walls of the bus shelter. Rain was coming down in sheets, flooding the road at an alarming rate. She could not remember when Danville had gotten such a bad rainstorm, and she wasn't keen to stick around and witness this one.

"I can't believe this is happening to me," she groaned. "Didn't you guys check the weather ahead of time?"

"Of course we did. But there was nothing to indicate that there would be this much rain." Phineas shrugged helplessly. "It just came out of nowhere."

The trio were stuck deep in downtown Danville, far from their humble home. Candace had been tasked with escorting the boys to a videogame convention, where she was expected to keep watch over them for the entire day.

 _If I wasn't having fun before, I'm definitely not having fun now,_ she thought bitterly. A particularly harsh gust of wind blew up, sneaking through the opening in the bus shelter and sending chills down the teen's spine. "That's it!" she declared, digging through her coat pocket. "I'm not waiting any longer. If Mom wants us home safe, she can come get us."

She pulled out her pink cellphone and squinted at the display. Her scowl deepened when she realized she was out of minutes. "Fantastic. Phineas, Ferb, cellphones."

Phineas bit his bottom lip. "I broke mine a few days ago. Dad brought it to get fixed, remember?"

Candace shot him a scathing glare. "What, you couldn't fix it yourself?"

"Didn't have the materials," said Phineas softly. "Besides, Dad saw me break it and offered to take care of it for me."

"Ferb?"

The green-haired boy gave his head a shake. "Dead."

"Useless," groaned Candace, burying her head in her hands. "This is the worst day ever."

"We're sorry," said Phineas meekly.

"Whatever." Candace moved up to the opening and squinted through the ceaseless downpour of rain. She could dimly make out a payphone situated across the street. "Public phone," she sighed. "Oh well. No other choice." She turned to face her brothers. "I'm going across the street. _Don't move._ I'll be back."

"What if the bus comes while you're there?" asked Phineas.

"Scream my name," returned Candace. "Delay the bus driver. Something. You're the geniuses. I'm sure you'll figure something out."

It was said in too sharp a voice to be meant as a compliment. Phineas slouched against the glass, bringing his yellow jacket closer around him, as his sister left the bus shelter and disappeared into the rain and darkness.

"She's really mad," said Ferb quietly.

Phineas nodded in misery. "She didn't even want to come with us today. Mom made her. I should have checked the weather more carefully. Went a bit deeper into the readings. At least then we wouldn't be stuck like this."

"Not our fault," said Ferb. "These things happen."

Phineas hugged his knees to his chest. "Candace doesn't see it like that. She never does. Everything is always our fault."

The seventeen-year-old had grown increasingly agitated and irritable with them this past summer. She scoffed at their ideas, sneered at their inventions, and grew angry every time they disappeared. Phineas struggled to figure out what to do to make his sister happy, but he was at a loss. Everything they seemed to do only served to make Candace further the distance that had grown between them.

Phineas hated it. He hated having his sister mad at him.

Ferb, on the other hand, was more annoyed with their elder sister than upset. Candace seemed to find any reason to get cross with them, and even when they tried to include her in their activities she just brushed them off. She was acting like a brat, and Ferb did not appreciate her attitude. But he was not one for words, and hoped that Candace would eventually pick up on the frustration and disapproval he was displaying.

"Maybe she would like a super personalized computer," spoke Phineas suddenly. "Voice activated, touch screen, and all the works!"

"The last thing she wants from us is one of our inventions," muttered Ferb. "We should just leave her be."

Phineas looked at him, stricken. "But she's our sister! We have to figure out how to make her happy again!"

"No, we don't. She wants nothing to do with us. The best we can do is give her her space."

Phineas' eyes dimmed and he stared at his soaked sneakers with a sad expression. Ferb felt his heart prickle, as saying the words out loud only made them hurt more.

Candace stumbled back then, soaked from head to toe. "Okay, apparently, the buses are delayed due to the weather," she informed. "Mom said to wait it out. One should be here soon."

Phineas nodded. "'Kay."

Candace did not notice their downcast expressions, which only served to ignite Ferb's annoyance. _Is she so concerned with herself that she doesn't care about us?_

The bus chugged along the road a few minutes later, and the Flynn-Fletcher siblings piled on. They did not speak a word to each other on the ride back home. Candace practically flew out the door, charging up the walkway and bursting inside. Phineas and Ferb followed along at a slower pace, taking their time with removing their wet clothes and shoes.

"How was your day, boys?" Linda called from the kitchen.

"Good!" Phineas called, managing to inject some degree of enthusiasm in his voice. And it was true-the Gamer Extravaganza Con was amazing. It was just the latter part of the day that got his spirits down. "I'm pretty beat. I think I'll head to bed."

"Okay, hon. There's leftovers in the fridge if you or Ferb get hungry."

"Thanks."

The duo filed up the stairs and passed Candace's firmly shut bedroom door. They could distinctly hear her chattering, which meant she was on the phone. Shoulders drooping, Phineas entered the bedroom he shared with Ferb.

"Hey, Perry," he greeted, dropping onto his raft bed.

Perry chattered in response, managing to keep the concern from showing on his face. _They look pretty subdued for a couple of kids who just spent the entire day at a convention dedicated to videogames._

Phineas lifted himself up and rolled over with a sigh. "Are you _sure_ there's nothing we can do to make Candace like us again?" he asked desperately.

 _…_ _ah. That explains it._

Perry felt a swell of annoyance towards his eldest owner. He didn't know what Candace's problem was, but he knew she didn't dislike her younger siblings. She was either putting up a front or projecting her own frustrations onto her brothers.

He suspected the latter was the reason.

"I don't think so, Phin," said Ferb tiredly.

"But-"

As Phineas spoke, Perry hopped to the floor and scurried out of the room. Candace's attitude had gone on long enough, and it was about time she realized what affect it was having on the boys. He went to her door and chattered loudly.

"Stace-hang on. The little meatbrick is at my door." There was the sound of footsteps and soon the door swung open. Candace glared and pointed at him, landline held in her hand. "No, you cannot sleep in my room tonight. You make my sheets smell funny."

Ignoring her, Perry bit a piece of her sock and pulled insistently. Now bewildered, Candace held the phone to her ear. "Uh, Perry's being weird. I think he wants to take me somewhere…no, he's never done that before. Yeah. Uh-huh. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

She hung up and tossed the phone onto her bed. "This better be good," she warned, and followed after the platypus.

Perry brought her over to the boys' room. Candace opened her mouth, brow crinkled in irritation.

"Do you think Candace hates us?"

Her mouth immediately snapped shut, eyes growing wide. There was fear in Phineas' voice, and her stomach twisted into knots when Ferb replied, "I don't know. Maybe."

 _What the heck? Where did this come from? What did I do to-?_

Perry could see the pieces falling into place in Candace's mind-her abrupt manner, sharp words, dismissive gestured and irritated snaps. For almost three weeks, she had treated her brothers as if they were nothing more than globs of gum on her shoe. She had been particularly nasty to them today, now that she was seeing herself clearly.

Her posture slumped and immense guilt flooded her expression. She looked down at Perry. "Now what do I do?"

Perry chattered and waddled into the room. Gulping nervously, Candace followed after him. Phineas looked at her in surprise. "Candace?"

The teen hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck. She mulled over how to approach the matter she had created, eventually settling on, "I don't hate you."

The shock of realizing that his sister had heard what he said was quickly replaced by hope. "You don't?"

Candace flinched, feeling the ball of guilt grow by the second. "No, of course not."

"You sure act like it," said Ferb, his disapproval clear.

"I know."

"Why?"

Candace settled on the edge of Phineas' bed. "I guess…I guess because I'm frustrated," she admitted, and all three occupants missed the flash of triumph that flitted through Perry's eyes. "I always try to show Mom what you're up too, but it never works. She never believes me."

"We could fix that," spoke Phineas quickly. "Maybe film it or have Mom help us-"

Candace smiled humourlessly. "It won't work. Trust me. I've tried everything. I guess Mom just isn't meant to see the stuff you build. Not that I'm going to stop trying. But…that's not the only reason." She stared at the floor. "I'm sorta jealous."

"Jealous?" asked Phineas incredulously, while Ferb tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"Yeah." Candace played with her fingers. "You guys are super smart. You're inventive. You're creative. Everyone loves you. You do things I could never do in a million years. I'm just plain old boring Candace Flynn."

"That's not true!" protested Phineas. "You've given us inspiration for many of our projects."

"Ideas are pretty much the only thing I can do." Candace shrugged.

"Ideas go a long way," spoke Ferb.

Candace laughed softly. "Thanks. I know it sounds silly. I shouldn't be jealous of my younger brothers. But I am. And I guess everything just built up and I lashed out. I'm a jerk. I'm sorry."

"You're not a jerk." Phineas jumped up and wrapped his arms around his sister's neck. "You just had a rough patch. That's okay. We all have those."

Ferb got up and joined the hug, resting his head against Candace's shoulder. "You can talk to us, you know. Whenever you feel bad."

"A teenage girl does not want to talk to her siblings about her problems," said Candace in amusement. "But I appreciate it. I'll try to be less snappy. I hope I didn't ruin your day today."

"No, we had fun," assured Phineas.

"Well…since I was such a jerk, I figure it's only fair that I make it up to you."

Phineas brightened. "Ooh. Can we have a sleepover? We can watch movies and play games and-"

"Sure," she cut in. "But if you do something bust-worthy, I'm all over it."

Ferb smiled. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

"Let's start on snacks!" said Phineas excitedly. He grabbed Candace by the hand, and the girl managed to pick up Perry as her brothers bustled her out of their room.

"You know, I think you're more intelligent than you let on," mused Candace, the platypus tucked under her arm.

No one noticed the smirk that crossed the secret agent's beak.


	2. Honourary Siblings

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb.**

 ** _Siblings_ : **Norm and Vanessa

 **Honourary Siblings**

Sprawled out on her couch, Vanessa's fingers hovered over the keyboard of her laptop. Her father's plasma television set was on full blast, blaring a movie she wasn't entirely paying attention to. Most of her concentration was locked on her latest Family Studies assignment, which was a questionnaire she needed to do with a sibling.

Her teacher had informed the only childs of the class that they could interview a cousin, niece or nephew instead. Vanessa did not really have any of those, at least none she knew really well. Most of her father's family still lived in his native country, and her mother had a really small family that was a bit estranged.

"What a family," she sighed to herself, staring at the blank word document displayed on the screen.

"I have lemonade!" declared Norm, entering the spacious living room. He carried a silver tray with a tall glass filled with the bittersweet liquid.

Vanessa smiled, gratefully taking the glass. "Thanks, Norm."

"No problem, sis!"

Cocking her head to the side, she studied her father's robot closely. "Do I have something on my face?" Norm asked, his mouth flashing green with every word he spoke.

"No. But I think you just solved my homework problem. I need to ask you some questions. I'm doing a report/questionnaire thing on siblings."

"Okie-dokie!" Norm happily set the tray aside and settled on the hardwood floor, careful to balance his heavy metal body in a way where it wouldn't cause any dents to the wooden surface. "Fire away!"

"Well, obviously, your name is Norm. How old are you?"

"I am one summer old!"

Vanessa grinned. "Guess that definitely makes me the oldest, then."

"By sixteen years," confirmed Norm cheerfully. "I am mature for my age."

"You're telling me. Okay, what do you like about me?"

"You are really nice and you let me borrow your music player. What do you like about me?"

"You're extremely patient with me and my father, which I greatly appreciate. Oh, and you're a great cook." Vanessa typed the information into the word document. "As for things I don't like about you; you keep the shells in the eggs when you cook them and you short out the T.V whenever you get too close. Which, for the record, I don't understand, considering you run on squirrel power."

"I am a complicated piece of machinery," replied Norm. "I don't like your mood swings and taste in movies."

"Okay, the mood swings I get, but I have an artistic taste in movies," protested Vanessa, reluctantly typing in Norm's answer.

"Some might call it creepy."

"Geez, thanks." Vanessa rolled her eyes. "What do we have in common?"

"Dad."

"Uh…that's sort of expected." Vanessa wrinkled her brow in thought. "We like the same videogames…"

"And we both like the shows _Grey Area_ and _World of Failures,_ " added Norm.

"Right. And we like the same music. That should be fine." Vanessa glanced at her assignment sheet to see what the next question was. "What is our funniest memory?"

"Remember when we made an indoor water slip n' slide?" asked Norm brightly.

Vanessa burst into laughter. "Oh my gosh, yes! We coated the entire hallway with ice cubes and water and used an inner tube to slide down it. Dad came back before we could clean up and slipped. He was so mad, his eye did the twitchy thing."

"You were grounded for a week."

Vanessa smirked. "So were you. We both were under house arrest. But it was worth it. I'll never forget the look on his face." She entered the story into her growing report. "This is actually fun. Next question. Most memorable argument." She tilted her head up to the ceiling, eyes narrowed in thought. "Wait, have we ever argued? I mean, really argued?"

"Well, you got mad at me when I broke your old music player," spoke Norm.

"Oh yeah!" exclaimed Vanessa, fingers flying over the keys. "That was my favourite one, too. It was black with a silver skull on the back. You had to go and sit on it."

"You shouldn't leave expensive devices on the couch."

"Oh, shut up. Uh…describe each other in one word."

"Complicated," said Norm.

Vanessa snorted. "Oh, thanks! I am not complicated. I am a teenager. There's a clear difference."

"Okay. Unique."

"I'll take that. Tolerable, patient, pleasant, helpful-just pick one."

"I like the sound of pleasant."

"You got it." Vanessa checked the last question on her assignment sheet. "On a scale of one to ten, how well do you get along?"

Glancing at each other, the pair said, "Ten!" in unison.

Laughing, Vanessa finished typing up the answers to her questionnaire. "Rocking. Last thing is to take a picture of the two of us." She then paused in thought. "Actually…I have a better idea."

…

When Heinz Doofenshmirtz returned home from grocery shopping, he was greeted with the sounds of his daughter and robot playing an intense game of racing. Shaking his head, he entered the kitchen and dumped his bags on the counter.

"Don't get too excited, Norm!" he hollered. "I am not replacing any more controllers!"

His eyes fell on the video camera sitting on one of his kitchen island chairs, plugged into the socket. Curious, he picked the slim black device up and turned it on. He discovered a newly filmed clip in the camera's storage. He selected it, and watched as the clip unfolded before him.

 _"_ _Hey,"_ his daughter greeted, looking straight into the lens of the camera. _"You already know who I am, but I guess I better introduce myself anyway. I'm Vanessa Doofenshmirtz. I know that I only have to take a picture for this sibling assignment, but I don't think you're going to understand by a mere snapshot. So we're going to explain our relationship on video."_

Norm stepped into the frame, only his torso being seen. _"Hi! I'm Norm!"_

 _"_ _Norm, you're not in frame."_

The robot crouched down, so that his metallic face could be seen. _"Hi! I'm Norm!"_

 _"_ _First off, yes, he's a robot,"_ informed Vanessa. _"My dad created him at the beginning of this summer. You're probably asking why I did this project with him. Well, it's because he's my brother."_

 _"_ _And she's my sister!"_ piped up Norm.

Amusement flickered through Vanessa's eyes. _"They got that. This might seem weird to you guys, but that's okay. My family situation isn't like everyone else's. And that's fine with me. I'm an only child, and Norm is the sibling I always wanted. We may not be related by blood, but I think that's what makes our relationship stronger than most siblings."_

 _"_ _I run on squirrel power!"_

 _"_ _Yeah, that's definitely not the case with me,"_ laughed Vanessa. _"So…yeah. I guess that's all I have to say. I'm Vanessa."_

 _"_ _And I'm Norm!"_

 _"_ _And we're siblings. Deal with it."_

The small screen went black and Heinz smiled, shaking his head. "You're only encouraging him," he muttered fondly under his breath. He set the camera down and glanced over his shoulder at the fresh shouts that came from the living room.

"Norm! Stop pushing me off the road!"

"But I am trying to win."

"I'm not even in first place, dork! In fact, I'm _behind_ you!"

"You do not have to yell at me."

"I'm not yelling."

"You are too."

"I am not!"

Heinz grinned. _Siblings, indeed._


	3. Driving Miss Stacy

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb.**

 _ **Siblings:**_ Stacy and Ginger

 **Driving Miss Stacy**

 _"_ _Stacy! Come on! Let's get going!"_

Stacy ignored her sister and shovelled another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. "Mom, do I really have to do this?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, dear," said Dr. Hirano idly as she shrugged on her jacket. "And yes, you do. I have a busy schedule this month. Ginger needs to practice driving and someone with their full license needs to take her."

"I could call Candace," offered Stacy.

Dr. Hirano looked at her eldest daughter in amusement. "I think she will be too busy with her own siblings. Stacy, I'm not asking anything difficult of you."

Stacy pointed her spoon at her mother. "You're asking me to sit in the passenger seat while my little sis drives me around town. Not only is that humiliation, but that's also hazardous to my health."

"You'll have fun, dear." Dr. Hirano picked up her bag and blew a kiss to her daughter. "I'm off. Love you."

"Love you too." Stacy watched her mother depart and reluctantly finished up her cereal. She set her breakfast dishes into the sink and ventured into the front hall. She snagged her purse from the hook and went outside.

"It's about time!" sixteen-year-old Ginger snapped, leaning impatiently against the hood. "You took forever!"

"Not long enough." Stacy locked the front door. "Get in the car. Let's get this over with."

Ginger happily climbed into the front seat and buckled up. She eagerly accepted the keys from her sister and stuck them in the ignition. "Get ready! We're gonna hit the road!"

"Can't wait," muttered Stacy.

Ginger stepped on the pedal. But instead of creeping backwards, they lurched forwards. She hastily stepped on the brakes before they ploughed through the garage door. She glanced at Stacy, who was gripping the sides of her seat.

"Oops. Forgot to put it in reverse," she sheepishly, making the correction.

"I change my mind," hissed Stacy. "I don't want to die."

Ginger pouted. "It wasn't that bad!"

"No, but it _could_ have been."

"I got it now." Ginger started the process of backing out of their driveway to prove her point. "See?"

"Uh-huh." Stacy peered out the back window. "So far so good."

Ginger pulled out into the road and put the gear shift into 'drive'. She started down the road, hands gripping the wheel.

"Not so tight," cautioned Stacy. "You want to be relaxed."

"Right." Ginger adjusted her grip. "Sorry. I'm just excited."

"Tone that down a bit." Stacy crossed her arms. "This is my car and I would greatly appreciate it getting back home without a scratch."

"It'll be fine!" insisted Ginger.

They came upon a stop sign and she slowed down. She waited for the cars to pass before continuing on her way. Stacy rolled down her window a bit and rested her elbow against the armrest. "Speed up a bit," she said, catching sight of the speedometer. "You don't want to be below the speed limit."

"Got it." Ginger increased the pressure on the gas pedal a little bit. "Can we drive by Phineas' and Ferb's place?"

"Sure. But don't slow down. I don't want people to see you carting me around."

Ginger rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

They soon reached Maple Drive. Stacy noticed her best friend standing in the Flynn-Fletcher front yard, staring in bewilderment at the giant rotating Ferris wheel that towered over her house. "Yo, Candace!" she shouted, sticking her head out the window.

The redhead turned around and stared at the approaching dark blue car in disbelief. "Stace?"

"Help me!" she called, and when the car drove past completely Candace noticed that Ginger was the driver.

"Good luck!" she hollered after her Japanese-American friend.

Stacy laughed and settled back in her seat. Ginger glared out the window. "I'm not doing that bad."

"Oh, lighten up, Ginge. It was just a joke."

They spent the next hour cruising around town. Ginger learned to maintain her speed, practiced her turns and got a few chances to pass other vehicles.

"Alright," said Stacy. "I think that's enough for one day. Let's go home."

"Okay. Can I just stop at Phineas'? Maybe there's still time to ride that Ferris wheel. You can drive your car home."

"Fine with me." Stacy stretched. "I'll get the house to myself."

"Like you're going to do anything," scoffed Ginger. "You're just going to sit on your butt and watch television."

"Nothing wrong with that."

Ginger reached an intersection, where the light was green. She did a sweep to make sure the way was clear before moving the car forwards.

 _Hooooooooooooooooonk!_

Ginger turned her head to see a truck barrelling towards her. Panicked, she jerked the wheel so that they would not be in the path of the speeding vehicle. Stacy screamed as they spun in a rapid circle before slamming into a metal pole on the sidewalk.

The twenty-one-year-old sat stock still for a moment, face pale. Slowly, she undid her seatbelt and crawled from her car. Shaking, Ginger did the same, stepping numbly onto the cement and watching the truck careen off into the distance.

A few cars stopped to check on them. "Are you okay?" a woman exclaimed. "I saw what happened! Should I call 911?"

"Please," said Stacy. She moved around her car, inspecting the damage. There was a large dent on the passenger's side, and the windshield had cracked a bit. Heaving a sigh, she turned to her sister, who had silent tears trailing down her cheeks.

Worried, she hurried to Ginger's side. "Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "I'm so sorry!"

"About what?" asked Stacy in bewilderment.

"I wrecked your car! I said I wouldn't! I'll pay to fix it, I will!"

"Ginger!" Stacy took her by the shoulders. "Ginge, it's just a car. It's replaceable. You, on the other hand, are not."

Ginger latched onto Stacy's shirt and sniffled. "I'm really sorry."

"It's not your fault," soothed Stacy, running her fingers through her sister's long raven strands. "It was that mad man's fault. Considering you were put in a rough spot, you just reacted. It could have ended a whole lot worse."

"Think Mom will let me drive anytime soon?"

Stacy grinned. "Not after she hears about this."

Ginger rubbed the tears from her face with a laugh. "What are we gonna do about this?"

"Wait for the cops, and the tow truck, and then we'll just have to walk home." Stacy slung her arm around Ginger's shoulder. "We'll stop for ice-cream or something."

"I like ice-cream."

"Good. It's my treat." Stacy glanced at her smoking wreck of a car and hummed. "Eh. Maybe I'll just get a new ride…perhaps a different shade of blue."

Ginger smiled brightly. She really did love her sister.


	4. Ill Feelings

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb.**

 _ **Siblings:**_ Heinz and Roger

 **Ill Feelings**

When a knock sounded on his penthouse door, Heinz wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not. He burned with a fever of a hundred and three and spent the past two days falling in and out of sleep. But he didn't have the energy to care and turned over, wrapping his blanket tighter around his lanky, shivering form.

He started to care when he heard a key turn in the lock.

Vanessa was at Charlene's, despite her insistence that she could stay behind and look after him. He wouldn't have it, for he knew his daughter had big plans with his ex-wife and did not want to keep her from them. The two were off on a road trip, and they were also the only ones with the keys to his apartment.

With a grunt, he managed to lift himself up on his elbows to squint at the opening door. His spirits completely plummeted when his brother entered, dressed in jeans and a dark green T-shirt. A silver key dangled from his finger.

"Hello, brother dear," said Roger, shutting the door with his foot.

"Go 'way," snapped Heinz.

"Is that any way to treat someone who's come to look after you?"

"I don't need any help," grumbled Heinz, dropping back against his pillow. "Where'd you get that key?"

"You gave it to me when you moved in," replied Roger. "You can't be going senile already."

Heinz furrowed his brow, struggling to think through the haze that clouded his mind. It had been a rather long time ago, when he bought the building and had keys made. For all he knew, he probably did give his brother a key, for whatever reason.

"Shut up," he finally said, voice raspy. "What are you doing here?"

"Ness called me." Roger moved across the floor and sat on the arm of the couch. "Said you had a high fever and were being stubborn."

"I am not being stubborn. I'm fine."

Roger studied his brother over the top of his tinted glasses. The bags under his eyes were darker than normal, there was a sheen of sweat on his brow and he seemed to have a case of the shivers. "Yes, you're the perfect picture of health," he drawled.

"Sarcasm doesn't work on you," shot back Heinz. "And why would Vanessa call you?"

"She wanted to know if I could come look after you."

Heinz snorted (and immediately regretted it when his head started to pound). "You? Don't you have political business to take care of, Mr. Mayor?"

"Danville can take care of itself for a day or two," said Roger casually. "Melanie is there, so if anything urgent comes up she can page me."

"You really don't have to be here," said Heinz, closing his eyes. "Seriously."

"Well, you refuse to go to the hospital."

"Because I don't have to," Heinz said impatiently. "Some fluids and some medication and I'll be good to go. So just leave already."

"No."

Scowling, Heinz opened his eyes and sat up once more. "What do you mean, no?! It's my penthouse! Heck, it's my building!"

Roger crossed his arms, unmoved. "I'm not going to leave when you're sick like this."

Heinz growled in frustration. "Get. Out!"

"You wouldn't be putting up such a fight if Ness was here. I bet you wouldn't even fight this much if it was Charlene. It's me you have a problem with."

His blunt observation startled Heinz for a brief moment. While he knew he didn't hide his bitterness towards his brother, it was also something they never discussed. "Figure that out by yourself?" he asked, bringing his blanket up to his chin.

"It's not my fault I'm Mom's favourite."

Heinz's temper flared then, almost as high as his fever. He shot to his feet, ignoring the nausea that rose in his stomach as a result of his quick movement. "No, they _both_ favoured you!" he hissed, fists clenched at his sides. "And it is your fault!"

"How?" Roger asked, voice cool.

Well, now that the question had been asked aloud, Heinz was suddenly at a loss for an answer. "You…you just are," he snapped. "Being good at kickball, being everything I wasn't. I was forced into _such humiliating_ situations, and they doted on you!"

"Your life is not as tragic as you constantly make it out to be," said Roger in slight annoyance. "No, you weren't treated the best by Mom and Dad. But you came here, didn't you?"

"Not by my own choice! They tricked me into coming here! And I didn't even bother thinking about going back. So I made a life here. And then _you!_ You just had to follow me to America a few years later, to the same town!"

"I heard you were doing well, so I thought I would give the American Dream a shot as well!" Roger snapped.

"That's the problem! That's _always been the problem!_ " Heinz shouted. "No matter what I do, you're always better than me! In the first _month_ you were here, you got into office! You lost your accent, you became successful, and everything I ever wanted but could never have! Everything our parents said I would never be!" His eyes were burning now, and to his utter humiliation his voice cracked when he cried, " _Why can't I be successful and as good as you?!_ What's _wrong_ with me?"

His emotions were high and his head throbbed. He no longer had the energy to stand and his knees buckled. Roger moved, light on his feet, and caught Heinz before he struck the ground. "Don't get excited. Your body can't handle the stress right now," he chided, easing him down to the couch.

Heinz couldn't answer. His head felt like it was going to explode, it hurt so badly. He closed his eyes, frustrated with his show of weakness. Never before had he uttered aloud his fear, his insecurity. For so long he wondered what was wrong with him, what kept him from winning his parents' love and acceptance, from being successful. He only voiced it once, to Perry the Platypus. He never expected to tell it to his brother, let alone _shout_ it.

There was a moment of silence, and Heinz thought that Roger had finally left, though he didn't hear the door open and close. But soon after a cold weight settled on his forehead and his eyes cracked open. His hand reached up and he felt a cool cloth laying across his skin.

"Here." Roger held out two pills and a bottle water.

Blinking, he accepted the small tablets and washed them down with a swig of water. Even though it would take a bit for it to kick in, the wet cloth was already helping to soothe his headache. "…thanks," he muttered.

Roger sat on the floor beside his brother so that he was level. " _Nothing_ is wrong with you."

There was a passion to his tone that caused Heinz to turn his head slightly to look at him. He was surprised by the intensity that burned in Roger's eyes. "W-what?" he croaked, not sure he had heard right.

"Nothing is wrong with you," repeated Roger. "You didn't do anything to warrant our parents' treatment of you. I don't know why they put you through such hardships. Maybe it's our culture. But I know that in their own weird way they love you. If they didn't, they wouldn't bother to call you, they wouldn't keep your pictures up back home."

"Whatever," muttered Heinz, trying to ignore the twinges of hope in his heart. He spent too much of his life hoping, only to be shattered each and every time.

"And I simply can't understand how you can say you aren't successful. You married before I did."

"Yeah. Look how that turned out."

"Always focussing on the negative side. Do you know how many marriages end horribly? Do you know how many of my own relationships ended nastily? You and Charlene are still on friendly terms. She pays you alimony without a fight and you both agreed to share custody of Ness."

Heinz had never considered the failure of his marriage in such a positive light before. He supposed that Roger was right, in some ways. His and Charlene's union did not end nastily. "I guess," he reluctantly admitted, growing bewildered by Roger's attempt at comforting him.

"And you own a building, for Pete's sake," continued Roger. "You're probably rolling in the rent you collect."

"Er…not really. It's mostly enough to cover the maintenance costs, with a bit extra," he admitted. "It's rough finding somewhere cheap to live nowadays, so I keep my rates as low as possible. Keeps the apartments full, at least. Nothing on being the mayor of a whole town."

"I never understood why you'd want to be mayor," mused Roger, stretching out his legs. "You never get a free moment, and you're essentially on job twenty-four/seven. I've always been jealous of you."

"Me?" Heinz asked incredulously.

"Sure. You don't have to answer to anyone. You may have to deal with an irate tenant or two, but not the problems of an entire town. You get to wake up when you want and build your own schedule. It's hard being mayor, Heinz. Sometimes I wonder how much longer I can do it."

"…well, you haven't sunk us to the ground. So I guess you're doing okay."

Roger glanced at his brother with a slight smile. "That means a lot, coming from you."

"And…uh…thanks, for that," he muttered, feeling slightly awkward. "I didn't mean to lose it like that."

"That's what brothers are for, isn't it? To discuss problems instead of bottling them inside for fifty years."

"I am not fifty!" said Heinz indigently. "I'm forty-seven!"

Roger blinked innocently. "Are you? Must be the wrinkles on your face."

"Shut up. And I have not been bottling my emotions up for forty-seven years. More like thirty. Maybe forty. You know what, let's go ahead and say forty-two."

Roger threw his head back and laughed. "I forgot how much of a brooder you are."

"I am not a brooder!"

"Sure you are. That's where Ness gets it from." He grinned. "She says we're two sides of the same coin. You're the bitter, brooding insane side and I'm the logical, charming attractive side."

"Shut _up_." Heinz rolled over in exasperation, burying his head into his pillow. "Go make me some soup or something."

"I'm allowed to stay, then?"

"Until I get sick of you. I want chicken-noodle."

"Where's the please?"

"I'm the oldest. I make demands, you follow them."

Roger grinned. "I'm certain it's never worked like that, ever."

"I'm sick. The status quo is being thrown on its head. I'd like some crackers with it."

Shaking his head, Roger stood up. "Yes, brother dear."

The air between them that once crackled with bitterness, frustration and conflicted feelings was now filled with peace and understanding. After so many years of having a wall between them, cracks were finally starting to break the invisible barrier.

And when Roger fell ill a week later with the same symptoms, it was Heinz who would show up unexpectedly at his door.


	5. Two of a Kind

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb.**

 **Okay, do you remember in _Bee Story_ we got introduced to Carla, who 'comes from a long line of unpaid interns'? It's implied she's related to Carl, but not specifically how. So I thought to myself, wouldn't it be cool if they were twins?**

 **Thus this happened. Hope you enjoy.**

 _ **Siblings:**_ Carl and Carla

 **Two of a Kind**

When Carl walked the corridors of O.W.C.A's Danville headquarters, he expected to see the usual familiar sights. Animals of all kinds were hurrying back and forth in their fedoras and his boss' shouts could be heard all the way from his office, which was located on the second floor.

Nothing unusual for Carl Karl.

But when he reached the supply room (needing more paper for the photocopier) he saw something he _wasn't_ expecting. Floored, he gaped at his sister, who was straining to reach a box of pens located on a high shelf.

"Carla?" he cried.

His twin sister looked over her shoulder in surprise. A grin curled across her freckled face and she lowered to the flats of her feet. Her curly dark red hair, held in pigtails, bounced as she moved towards him, white dress swaying with each step.

"Carl! I was hoping to run into you!" She threw her hands to the side with a bright grin. "Surprise!"

"What do you mean, 'surprise'?" asked Carl. "What the heck are you doing here?"

"I'm Admiral Acronym's official unpaid intern," informed Carla. "Today is my very first day."

 _You have_ got _to be kidding me._

"You never told me about this," said Carl in dismay.

Carla arched an eyebrow. "You never told me about this place either, you know."

"I'm under contract," he snapped.

"Well, so was I, when I started the application process. Once I got my foot in the door and realized you worked here too, I understood all the secrecy."

"How did you even find out about this place? O.W.C.A isn't exactly public with their job postings. They're pretty particular."

"I found a pamphlet under your bed," informed Carla. "It had all your passwords scribbled on it, as well as your username. I used them to check out the website. I stumbled across an ad looking for a new intern, so I figured I would go for it. I didn't know for sure if you were working there, but I figured there was a good chance."

"What were you doing in my room?! I kept that pamphlet hidden!"

Carla rolled her eyes. "Hiding it under your mattress is a horrible hiding place." She took a quick glance at her watch. "I'm going to be late. We'll talk more later." She jumped up and managed to grab hold of a box of blue-ink pens. "Have a good one!"

She skipped from the room, leaving her brother to gawk after her. When he finally snapped out of his stupor, his mouth formed an irritated scowl. "I can't believe this," he griped, grabbing a package of blank paper and leaving the supply room. "I cannot believe this."

Francis Monogram knew instantly that something was wrong with his intern when the ginger entered the recording room. He set up the cameras in his usual efficient manner, but was muttering under his breath the entire time. He only stopped when it came time to brief the agents on their missions. For a full hour, he was silent, brow furrowed and eyes dull behind his purple-framed glasses.

"Alright," Francis finally spoke after all the video equipment was shut down for the day. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," said Carl quickly, shooting a smile over his shoulder. "Just thinking."

Not convinced, Francis crossed his arms. "About?"

"Nothing important." He flinched when his voice rose to a high squeak, giving him away.

Francis snorted. "Is your sister as horrible a liar as you are?"

"No, she's better at it than I-" He stopped speaking, sudden suspicion crossing his pale face. He studied his boss intently and Francis gazed back with an impassioned expression. But he could not fool Carl, just as the kid could not fool him. "You knew!" he wailed, pointing at him in accusation. "You _knew_ Carla applied to work here!"

"I did. I am one of the higher-ups. I took a browse through the applications to see who the candidates were for Wanda's division."

"But why didn't you tell me?"

"None of your business," said Francis bluntly. "She's not in our sector."

Carl felt a flare of irritation. "I think I had a right to know."

"Hmmm. You wouldn't have cared if it was anyone else. The only reason you're acting childish is because it's your sister. Your _twin_ sister."

It was the way his mentor emphasized the word twin that made Carl pause. He pursed his lips and stared at the floor, knowing that his boss knew exactly what his problem was.

"Thought so." Francis pointed at the teen. "Whatever problems you have with her, I suggest you work them out immediately. I'm not appreciating the sullen attitude."

"Yes, sir," said Carl softly.

Nodding, Francis departed the recording room, leaving the nineteen-year-old to his conflicting thoughts.

…

Lunch rolled around and Carl moved towards the staff room located in Wanda's sector. It was not frowned upon to cross into different divisions, but he still felt uncomfortable. The entirety of Admiral Acronym's side of their shared building was covered in pink paint and wallpaper, lace and flowers.

Nudging open the door to the staff room, Carl found his sister sitting in the corner, eating her ham sandwich with a contented expression. Taking a quick breath, Carl sat across from her.

"Hey," said Carla in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you." Carl folded his hands together. "I need to know why you chose to apply to O.W.C.A."

Carla arched an eyebrow. "It just looked interesting."

"Is that it?"

"Well, no. I thought it would be cool if we could intern together, once I discovered you really did work here."

"I knew it." Carl slouched back in his chair, hands falling to his sides.

"Don't look so happy," said Carla sarcastically, feeling prickles of irritation. "What's wrong with you? You've been acting weird ever since you saw me this morning."

"It's just that this is supposed to be my place!" exclaimed Carl, pounding his fists to the table. "Where I could be me, Carl! A place where I'm not a twin, where I'm not the 'Carl' part of Carl and Carla."

"It's not like I'm working in the same division as you," snapped Carla, growing upset by her brother's aversion to her presence in his workplace. "I'm in a different sector." She stood up, leaving her lunch on the table. Tears gathered in her eyes as she cried, "I'm sorry I invaded your territory. If it bothers you so much, then I'll stay away from you during work hours. You won't even know I'm here!"

She stormed out then, leaving an extremely guilty Carl to sink in his seat as the disapproving glares of the agents on break turned on him.

 _Good job, Carl. Good job._

 _"_ _Krkrkrkrkrkrkrk."_

Jolting slightly, Carl stared down at the familiar platypus in surprise. "Agent P? What are you doing here?"

 _"_ _Heard you were having problems."_ Perry tilted his fedora down and sat in the seat Carla had just vacated.

Like Monogram, Carl was very good at reading the thoughts, sounds and expressions of animals. He gave a nod. "Yeah…little bit. Didn't exactly go how I was hoping."

 _"_ _Well, you all but told her you didn't want her to work here,"_ pointed out Perry.

Carl groaned. "I didn't mean it to come out so…harsh. I'm just a bit frustrated that came here primarily because of me."

 _"_ _What's wrong with that?"_

"This was my own space." Carl gestured widely. "I wasn't part of a pair, you know? I was just Carl. Not part of a twin set. Am I making sense?"

 _"_ _Sure."_ Perry nodded. _"But how about you try telling her that? In a nice, calm, non-confrontational manner."_

"Yeah." Carl rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't handle that one too well. I'll give it a better shot. Thanks, Perry. Guess you're pretty used to sibling squabbles, huh?"

Perry snorted. _"Tell me about it."_ He waved the teen on, and without further urging he rushed off, intent on making things right with his sister.

…

Carla spent the latter half of her lunch hour sitting in the courtyard, hunched over on a stone bench. An aura of misery surrounded her. Arms wrapped around her knees, she stared at the jets of water that spewed from the marble fountain in front of her.

"Hey."

Glancing over her shoulder, she was greeted with a bouquet of white roses, her favourite flower. Spirits lifting slightly, she took the peace offering from her brother and scooted over to make room. "Hey."

Carl sat down. "Can I have another shot at explaining myself?"

"I suppose so," agreed Carla.

"Okay. I reacted the way I did because I was thrown off guard. You're here, which was previously my place. Somewhere where I wasn't a twin. I was just Carl." He took a nervous breath before ploughing on. "I love you, but a guy needs his space, you know? Especially when your twin is pretty much the spitting image of you, right down to the glasses."

"I get it," said Carla with a soft smile. "We've spent eighty-nine percent of our time together over the course of nineteen years. We've always been Carl and Carla. This was your thing before I came along. I didn't think of it that way."

"That's okay. I'm flattered that you wanted to work with me." He grinned. "Most people don't."

"I know there are tons of other places where I could have interned." She played with the petals of one of the white roses. "But once I found that pamphlet and discovered that ad, I knew I had to give it a shot. You never spoke of where you were interning, but every time you came home you seemed so upbeat and happy. I could tell you were having a blast. I just had a gut feeling this had to be the place, and I wanted to be a part of your secret."

"Well, now you are. And you're right. You're in a whole different sector. We'll see each other at lunch and on runs to the supply closets, but that's about it."

"So you still got your territory?" joked Carla. "I'm not intruding?"

"No. I was just being dramatic. I'm sorry."

Carla wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. "It's okay. I get it. It's sometimes hard to be a twin. I definitely had my own share of those kinds of feelings." She pulled away with a mischievous grin. "But you _have_ to introduce me to this Francis Monogram you keep writing about in your online journal."

Carl turned brick red.

 _"_ _Car-la!"_


	6. Misunderstandings

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb.**

 _ **Siblings:**_ Albert and Irving

 **Misunderstandings**

Fingers tightening around the strap of his blue and red duffel bag, Irving stood on the sidewalk outside of Wellington Prep. His cab had departed ten minutes ago and he had yet to move. The massive brick building towered in front of him, large and intimidating. It looked like your typical boarding school from the movies, complete with rolling green lawns, ivy climbing up the walls and winding cobblestone pathways.

"I can't believe I have to spend spring vacation with Albert," he groaned to himself.

It had been the absolute worst news of his life when his parents told him he would be leaving Danville to spend the week with his brother at his elite boarding school. The ten-year-old took a weary breath and finally started his trek to the dorms, situated on the other side of the lawn.

Wellington Prep was located in the quiet suburban area of South Jackson, a few hours away from the Tri-State Area. It was the school their father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great grandfather had attended. It was Du Bois tradition to spend their high school years at Wellington Prep, and in about four years Irving would join the student roster.

Not that he was happy about it.

Irving reached the two-story brick dormitories. He shuffled through the double glass doors and glanced around the lobby. No Albert in sight.

"Typical," he grumbled. He approached the security desk and stood on his tiptoes so that he could see overtop the high desk. "Um…excuse me?"

The blonde haired woman stopped typing and looked at him. "May I help you?"

"Yes please. I'm here to see my older brother, Albert Du Bois. I'm going to be here for the week."

"What's his room number?"

"255," he recited. "Room A."

The woman picked up the phone and dialled in a number. After a moment, she said, "Albert? It's the front desk. Your brother is here. When you come down, you'll just have to sign him in. Thank you." She set the phone back into its holder. "He'll be down shortly."

Nodding, Irving went and sat down on one of the black leather couches that filled the lobby. He played with the straps of his duffel bag, dark blue eyes wandering about. Soon the turnstiles whirred and he swivelled his head to see Albert sauntering up to the front desk.

"Albert Du Bois," he said importantly, flashing his Student Residence ID card.

"Okay. Just fill this form and you can take your brother with you. He'll have to stay with you at all times."

"Don't know where else he'd go," responded Albert. "It's not like he has friends here."

Irving glared at the back of his brother's head. _Thanks for stating something completely unnecessary._

Albert finished filling out the necessary information and motioned for him to follow. "Come on. I'm cooking nachos in the microwave and I need to get to them before my roommate does."

Irving stood up and dragged his duffel bag behind him. "I hope he does."

"Don't be infantile," chided Albert. "What took you so long, anyway? You're an hour late."

"Ever hear of traffic?"

"You could have called to let me know. Ever hear of manners?" shot back Albert.

Irving huffed. "Like you would have come down to wait for me anyway. You're always making _me_ wait for _you_!"

"I'm the oldest."

"That's your answer for everything," muttered Irving, so low that his brother didn't hear it.

They climbed the stairs to the second floor and arrived at Albert's room. He slid in his key card and the pair entered the small space. The kitchen and the dining room shared the same floor space, and there were two rooms. Irving entered Albert's room and tossed his duffel bag onto the floor.

"Did you get your nachos?" he asked, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yup." Albert entered the room with plate of tortilla chips coated in cheese and sour cream.

"You gonna share?"

"Nope."

Irving collapsed on his brother's bed. _This is going to be the worst spring vacation ever._

…

Three days into the week, Irving was bored out of his mind. Videogames and comic books could only get him so far, and it also didn't help that he knew he was missing out on some amazing inventions from Phineas and Ferb.

 _Not that it matters,_ he thought bitterly. _You're not part of the core group. Anything you get to be a part of is a miracle._

He was not true friends with Phineas and Ferb-not like Baljeet, Buford and Isabella. In fact, he couldn't really say if he had friends. He spent most days in his room, on the Internet, because no one ever invited him out to play. He doubted that would change when he came to Wellington Prep for good.

Not even Albert wanted to hang out with him. He kept leaving to hang out with his friends, leaving his little brother with strict orders not to leave the room. His roommate Dexter was no help either-he shut himself in his room all day.

Irving got off his laptop with an irritated sigh. "All Albert ever does is treat me like crap," he ranted to himself. "I always have to do things for him. It's never about me, what I want."

 _Well…enough is enough._

Eyes burning with sudden determination, Irving shoved his laptop in his bag and pulled out his wallet, sticking it in the back pocket of his shorts. He left the room, went down the stairs and crept past the front desk.

Stepping out into the bright spring sunlight, Irving took a deep breath. He hard-pressed to remember a time when he openly defied his brother. It actually felt kinda good. Liberating.

"South Jackson is mine!" he cheered, running across the grass and towards the road. He didn't waste time getting away from Wellington Prep, his unwanted future, and his critical older brother.

He slowed his pace when he reached town. He looked around in slight awe, taking in the amount of shops and fast food joints. "Hmmm. Maybe I'll get a burger."

His grumbling stomach agreed. He took a moment to get a cheeseburger meal and wandered about for a place to eat. He stumbled upon a sprawling park, with metal benches and low-hanging trees. "Paradise," he sighed in contentment, taking a seat.

He ate his food in peaceful silence. But soon, he became aware of his loneliness, as he so often did. Some days were better than others. But here he was, in South Jackson, completely neglected by his brother.

 _Maybe there is something wrong with me…_

Or his brother was just a jerk. Either one was completely probable.

He laid back on the metal bench, eyes fluttering shut. The sun felt good on his skin, warm and comforting. Before long, he was asleep, right in the middle of bustling South Jackson.

…

 _Bzzzzt. Bzzzzt. Bzzzzt._

Grunting, Irving slapped around his face, groggy and confused as he was dragged from slumber. The insect that had been hovering near the boy flew off, and Irving slowly sat up. He blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from his vision. He looked up at the sky, which was now dark.

Eyes growing wide, he felt for his wallet and pulled it out. He opened it, heart sinking when he discovered all the cash he had for the week was gone.

 _Could have been worse. They could have stolen the whole thing instead of just the money. And they didn't take my cellphone._

His phone started vibrating at that very moment, indicating someone was calling. Having a very good idea of who it was, Irving reluctantly answered. "Hello?"

 _"_ _Where the heck are you?!"_

Irving winced, pulling the phone away from his ear. "Uh…in a park."

 _"_ _Where?"_

"I'm not far from the school. Ten minutes, maybe? Probably five by vehicle."

 _"_ _I told you not to leave my room!"_

Irving scowled. "Well, I didn't want to sit around all day! So I took a walk."

 _"_ _We'll discuss this when I come get you."_

"I can walk back," he protested.

 _"_ _You're not walking back alone in the dark,"_ snapped Albert. _"I think I know the park you're talking about. I'll be there soon."_

With that, Albert hung up and Irving angrily shoved his phone into his pocket. "Who is he to boss me around?" He kicked at the dirt, his mood growing sour again. The inevitable confrontation was not going to be pretty.

Irving only had to wait five minutes before he spotted his brother's vehicle crawling slowly along the street. Rolling his eyes, he got up and shuffled over. He rapped on the door of the still moving car and yanked the door open. "You know, you ought to get your glasses replaced. I was standing right there."

"Shut up and get inside." Albert glared. "You are in so much trouble."

"Whatever," Irving muttered, staring rigidly out the window. A tense silence built between them during the ride back to Wellington Prep. Albert kept a rein on his anger until they were in the safe confines of his dorm room. His roommate was gone for the night, leaving the two brothers to their privacy.

"When I tell you something, you listen," hissed Albert, giving Irving a sharp rap on the head.

Irving flinched and moved a few steps away from his fuming sibling. "You can't tell me what to do!" he snapped. "You're not the boss of me!"

Albert quickly closed the distance Irving was attempting to put between them. "I'm seven years older than you," the blonde snapped, jabbing at Irving's chest. "So yes, I am the boss of you!"

"Just because you're older doesn't mean you get to push me around!" exploded Irving. "I'm so tired of it! You're always criticizing me! It can never be about what I want, or what I want to do! It's always Albert, Albert, Albert!"

Unfazed, Albert crossed his arms. "You're being dramatic."

"I am not!" Irving stomped his foot in frustration. "I came here to spend the week with _you_. No, it may not have been by choice, but that's what I'm here for regardless. And all you've done is push me aside, hang out with your friends, and completely ignore me, like you've always done!"

"I don't ignore you," said Albert, a hint of impatience to his tone. "And these plans were made before I knew you were coming."

"That's it! You never put me first!" The words were falling from his lips now, and he couldn't stop them. All the problems he held with his brother over the past few years were pouring out, and his eyes were filling with tears. "Ever since you came to this stupid place, you haven't sent me one letter, and whenever you call it's to talk to Mom and Dad. At least before you gave me _some_ attention. But now you have new friends, and I'm left alone!"

"Okay, okay, okay," said Albert quickly as his brother's breathing hitched. "I sense underlying issues here."

"Oh, you think?" snapped Irving, scrubbing at his wet eyes in embarrassment. "Just forget about it."

"Uh, yeah…that's not going to happen." Albert eased his brother down on the edge of his bed. "First off, I am sorry I've been leaving you here. I didn't realize it bothered you that much. Second, I _do_ put you first. Which is why I took off from my tutoring session when Dexter texted that you were gone."

"You blew off your student?" Irving asked in disbelief. "You never miss a session."

"You were who-knows-where and you weren't answering my calls," said Albert dryly. "So no, I wasn't going to continue educating a first-year on mathematical equations."

"Oh…"

"Do I write you letters? No. Do I call you? No. We talk over the Internet, dingus. At least four times a week. Or have you gone senile?"

"No! I know that. I just…" Irving flapped his hands as he tried to figure out how to turn his thoughts into words. "I mean…I'd like to get a letter. Once in a while."

Albert set his hands on his hips. "Then that's what you say. I do that stuff with Mom and Dad because they're completely useless when it comes to working computers."

"Right," said Irving, staring at the floor.

"You said I left you alone. What did you mean?"

"That sort of just slipped out."

"Well, now we're going to talk about it."

Irving sighed. "You've always had friends. Sure, they were just as nerdy as you, but they were people to hang out with. I don't really have friends."

"What about Phineas and Ferb?" Albert questioned, eyebrow arching. "You know, the guys whose pictures you have plastered over the walls in your room?"

"They have a crew," Irving muttered. "I'm not a part of it. Even Baljeet, who can be just as geeky as me, thinks I'm weird. And I am weird."

"You're quirky," corrected Albert. "Nothing wrong with that. You could probably do with tuning it down a bit. If you want to hang out with them, ask. And if they say no, it's their loss. I'm pretty sure they're not the only kids in Danville."

"I guess so." Irving rubbed the back of his neck. "It seemed much more complex in my head."

"That's just youthful angst," dismissed Albert. "You get used to it. Now, final thing-it is not always about me."

"You're all Mom and Dad ever talk about." Irving rested his chin in his hands. "They're so proud of your achievements here. I'm supposed to live up to your expectations. I'm not as smart as you. I can't do what they want me to do."

Albert sunk down beside his brother. "You're imagining things that aren't there. Mom and Dad expect you to be you. You're the one always comparing yourself to me."

"Well, you don't help matters!" defended Irving. "You're always criticizing me."

"So you've said." Albert smirked slightly. "I criticize you because I'm trying to teach you about life."

Irving pursed his lips. "You're not a very good teacher."

"I'll ignore that one." Albert ruffled his brother's red hair playfully. "Any other grievances while we're at it?"

"I don't want to go here," confessed Irving. "But whenever I try to tell Dad, he either changes the topic or assures me that I'll change my mind as the time gets closer."

Albert nodded. "Four years is a long time. If you still feel this way when it comes time to register for high school, we'll sit down Dad together. I'm sure we can Mom on your side."

In that instant, all the weight lifted from Irving's shoulders and he felt lighter than he had felt in a while. "Thanks, Albert. I'm…I'm sorry for running out. I was mad."

"Just don't do it again. Did you spend the entire time in that park?"

"Yeah." Irving bit his lip. "Um…someone stole the money from my wallet."

Albert's eyes nearly bugged from his head. _"What?_ Were you mugged? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Irving swatted away the hands trying to inspect him for injuries. "I'm fine! No, I wasn't mugged. I sort of fell asleep on a bench and when I woke up my money was gone."

"Stupid." Albert gave him another swat. "Guess I'm paying for your movie ticket as well."

Irving's face lit up. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously." Albert stood up. "It's the least I can do after leaving my little bro hanging."

"Sweet!" Irving jumped to his feet. "Can I pick the movie?"

"We'll see." Albert slung his arm around his brother's shoulders. "You _did_ scare me half to death today. There has to be some punishment."

"I'm spending the rest of the week with you. Isn't that punishment enough?"

At the look Albert shot him, Irving grinned sweetly and darted from the room, the blonde hot on his heels.


	7. Monogram Kids: Night Out

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb. I only own my OCs, Maybelle and Misty Monogram.**

 **Okay, so first off, this chapter features a pair of my OCs. If OCs aren't your thing, feel free to skip this chapter. I promise the last batch of chapters will feature Phineas and Ferb characters only.**

 **Bit of background. A while ago, I wrote a story called** ** _Busting, Secret Agents and Kidnapped,_** **where I introduced Maybelle and Misty Monogram, the sisters of Monty.**

 **Since** ** _Cause We're Related_** **is a collection of one-shots focussing on siblings, I decided to take out May and Misty and play with them again. Just think of this chapter as fitting in with my** ** _Busting_** **universe. But you don't really need to read it in order to read this chapter.**

 **Monogram Kids: Night Out**

Though Monty had been home for a couple of years following his four-year stay at the prestigious High School Without a Cool Acronym, he still remembered the days of peaceful silence in his dorm room. There was no one to share his things with, no one to steal his food and no one to fight with.

Then he moved back home, and that all changed.

The twenty-one-year-old rummaged through the fridge, a soft scowl on his face when he didn't spot his leftover lasagna. _"May-belle!"_ he hollered, shutting the fridge door with more force than what was required. "Where's my leftover lasagna?"

His seventeen-year-old sister appeared in the kitchen doorway, an irritated expression on her face. "I don't know. Have you tried looking?"

Monty shot her a look. "What do you think?"

Maybelle shrugged. "How should I know where it is? I didn't eat it, if that's what you're wondering. And don't call me Maybelle, _Montgomery_."

"Then who ate it?" demanded Monty. "I was going to eat it for lunch."

"I'm not your only sister, you know," May said dryly. Shifting her head slightly, she hollered, _"Misty! Did you eat Monty's lasagna?"_

 _"_ _That was his?"_ their fourteen-year-old sister called back. _"Sorry, I didn't know."_

Monty let out a frustrated groan as May smirked. "That sucks."

"Note to self. Write my name on my food," muttered Monty. He went over to the pantry and pulled out a package of baked potato chips. "Or else the hounds will eat it up."

"I love how you automatically suspected me, by the way," said May, moving to sit in one of the leather kitchen stools that surrounded the marble table.

"Hey, it almost always is you," pointed out Monty. He sat across from his sister and tore open the bag of chips. "If you're not trying to irritate me you're attempting to get Misty in trouble."

"Not always," corrected May. "Just most of the time."

Misty skipped into the kitchen then, her short white hair just brushing her shoulders. "Sorry, bro," she apologized. "Should've asked who the food belonged to."

"Don't worry about it," dismissed Monty. "Just ask next time."

May crossed her arms. "And if I were the one who ate it, you'd have freaked out at me."

"She's the baby," said Monty with a shrug. "And you're a sarcastic, wisecracking pain in my butt."

"Before you guys get into another one of your famous bickering fits, I have a favour to ask you." Misty widened her blue eyes slightly and put a hopeful expression on her face. "There's this concert happening in South Jackson. Think you can help convince Dad to let me go?"

May snorted. "Please. There's no way he's going to let you go by yourself."

"I won't be by myself. I'm gonna go with some friends."

"Isn't it a little late to be asking Dad to go to a concert that's happening tonight?" asked Monty.

"Which is why I need some support. Please?"

"Sure," agreed Monty. "It can't hurt."

May rolled her eyes. "Of course you cave."

"Come on, she just wants to go to a concert," reasoned Monty. "We've been in her spot before."

Misty turned her pleading eyes onto her sister. May shook her head. "Sorry, but there's no chance. I know exactly what Dad is going to say. He's going to say the only way you can go is if one of us accompany you. I will not be that one."

Misty scowled as May got up and departed the kitchen. "You're a jerk!"

"Put it in the complaint box!" she retorted.

Huffing, Misty turned to shoot her brother a grateful smile. "Thanks, Monty."

Monty managed a smile. "No problem."

But inside he knew that May had a very good point. Their father would most likely only let his youngest child go if one of his older children went with her. And Monty had unwittingly offered himself as a willing chaperone.

 _Sometimes it sucks that she's smarter than me._

…

A few hours later, a heavy knocking sounded on May's bedroom door. Sighing, she marked her place in the book she was reading and set it aside. "Come in."

Monty and Misty quickly entered, crossing her pink-and-purple tiled floor to stand by her bedside. "We need to talk."

May arched an eyebrow. "Was I right?"

Misty groaned. "Yes, okay? You were right. Dad's not letting me go alone with my friends. He wants one of you to go with me. But I don't want you guys hanging with me and friends. No offense."

"Trust me, there's none taken," said May feelingly.

"So I've come up with an idea." Misty pressed her fingertips together. "We-wait." Her blue eyes suddenly sharpened. "Where's Frederick?"

Monty set his hands on his hips. "Where do you think?"

As the youngest Monogram child, Misty was the last to know about the work their father really did. So it came as a shock when she discovered that May's pet frog Frederick was a secret agent, but it didn't take her long to get used to the idea. Not after all the things she did with Phineas and Ferb.

"Hey, he's not _always_ working," defended Misty. "I just wanted to make sure he wasn't lurking around. Okay, so my idea is that Monty drops me off at the concert. I meet up with my friends, have a good time, and let you know when to pick me up. We get home and Dad won't be the wiser!"

"And you're telling me this because…?" May asked suspiciously.

"I want you to come with me," spoke up Monty.

"Why?"

"I don't want to hang out in South Jackson by myself."

"And I don't want to be seen in public with you," quipped May.

Monty rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Can you please be serious?"

"Fine." May sat up a little straighter and pointed at her sister. "I'm gonna go ahead and put this idea in the 'Complete Failure' category." She then pointed at her brother. "What the heck is wrong with you? I know she's your favourite, but come on."

Misty frowned. "You guys haven't exactly been complete angels. Do I need to recount the story of how you found out about O.W.C.A to begin with?"

"No thanks, I was there, I lived it," said May dryly.

"She has a point," persuaded Monty. "We've both done some things behind our parents' backs. Now it's her turn."

"Uh…no. I think she's gotten away with enough."

"Alright, fine." The brunette crossed his arms. "You either come with me or I tell Dad what you and that Flynn girl did two weeks ago."

May glared. "What, they teach blackmail at O.W.C.A training now?"

"No. It's just Sibling 101."

"Fine." May threw her hands in the air. "Whatever. But I have a bad feeling about this."

Misty shrieked with glee and tackled her sister in a hug. "I love you!"

"Yeah, yeah."

 _Geez. The things I do._

…

After getting the rules iterated to them for the millionth time by their parents, the Monogram siblings were finally on the road. Monty was at the wheel of his black Buick, following his GPS' directions to Rojack Stadium, where the concert was being held. Misty bounced excitedly in the backseat, wearing her favourite red and black _Pepper n' Spice_ shirt.

"I gotta know," started May, crossing her arms over her pink hoodie and glancing at her brother, "how the heck she convinced you to do this."

Monty shrugged. "She really wants this. And it's like she said, it's not like we haven't snuck around behind Dad's back to do what we want."

"Besides, it's perfect," chimed in Misty. "Dad won't send anyone to watch over us because we have Monty with us."

"Good point. There's no way Dad would think his golden boy would disobey him."

Monty shook his head. "You need to stop thinking Mom and Dad have favourites."

"Can't help it. I think its Middle Child Syndrome."

It took a couple of hours (and more than a few spats) but the trio finally arrived at Rojack Stadium. The parking lot was full of cars attempting to find a decent parking space. Misty pressed her face against the window and grinned. "I see them!"

Monty squinted out the windshield, soon locating a group of five young teenage girls clustered near the entrance. "Alright. Have fun, don't do anything stupid, let us know you're alive every hour with a text and call us when this whole thing is done."

"Got it. Thanks again!" Misty flew from the car and sprinted towards her friends. Monty managed to turn his car around and make his way back onto the street.

"So what are we supposed for the next three hours?" asked May.

"I think there's a mall around here somewhere."

After a few minutes of driving around, Monty finally found the mall he was looking for. This parking lot was considerably empty, so he parked close to the entrance. May stepped out and tucked her hair behind her ears. "You know, I'm half expecting Frederick to come jumping out and bust us. Or worse, Perry."

Monty grimaced. "Don't even joke." He locked his vehicle and the two headed for the entrance. Pushing through the double-glass doors, they were instantly greeted with a blast of frigid air. "Where do you wanna go?"

May locked eyes on the first store in her sights. "There's a drug store. We can get Misty new hair dye."

Monty could not help but laugh. "Very funny. It may not make sense, but she likes keeping her hair white."

"She's forever a mystery."

"I could say the same about you." Monty nudged her playfully. "You're always ragging on us."

"Well, you're always messing with me," countered May. "And Misty drives me crazy. Always getting away with stuff."

"Like you haven't gotten away with your own fair share of mischief," dismissed Monty.

"She gets away with much more than I ever have." May sighed. "I don't know. It's really hard being the middle child."

"Try being the oldest, having to look after two little pain-in-the-butt sisters," said Monty feelingly, sticking his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatshirt. "And I bet Misty has her own problems being the youngest. Dad didn't want her coming to this concert by herself because he still views her as the baby of the bunch."

"So there are problems all around. Doesn't help that Dad's line of business isn't entirely safe." May glanced at her brother with a slight smile. "But I guess that's why we have to stick together."

Monty slung an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "You know it. Let's go see a movie or something."

"Sounds good. But I get to pick it out."

"Yeah. I don't think so. I'm the driver, and I'm the oldest."

May glared in irritation. "You're also the one who blackmailed me into coming with you guys."

"Even more reason to let me pick the movie." Monty grinned.

Surrendering, May allowed him to lead her into the theatre. After buying their tickets and some popcorn, they filed into the dark theatre. They had barely gotten through the first half of the movie when Monty's cellphone trilled.

"Shoot," he muttered, digging it out of his pocket and ignoring the glares of his fellow moviegoers. He then paled. "It's Dad!"

"Don't answer it!"

"What do you mean, don't answer it?" Monty rolled his eyes, stood up and rushed from the theatre. May hurried after him and when they were in the empty corridor Monty clicked the button. "Yeah?"

 _"_ _Monty?"_

"What's up?"

 _"_ _Where are you?"_

"What do you mean?" asked Monty in bemusement. "At the concert with Mist."

 _"_ _How strange,"_ Francis said calmly. _"Because I just happened to turn the T.V to the channel where the concert is being broadcast live. And in the thousands of people in the audience, the camera happens to pause on Misty. And do you know what?"_

"What?" asked Monty, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. It must have shown on his face, for May's eyes widened with panic.

 _"_ _You and Maybelle are nowhere in sight."_

"…we're in the bathroom."

 _"_ _Oh really? So you can just run out and put Misty on the phone?"_

"Uh…yeah. But it's a massive crowd. There's no seats or anything, you know. Gonna be hard to find her."

 _"_ _Montgomery. Where's your sister?"_

"Which one?" asked Monty, playing for time.

 _"_ _Montgomery!"_

"Alright!" Monty thrust the phone at his sister. "It's for you!"

"Hey, Dad," greeted May, pulling on the hem of her white skirt nervously. "What's up?"

 _"_ _You're busted, that's what's up,"_ snapped Francis.

May flinched. "Dang."

 _"_ _Go get your sister, and come straight home,"_ he ordered. _"I swear, you better not waste any time. I will expect to see you in four hours. You three are in serious trouble!"_

May's shoulders slumped as the dial tone buzzed in her ear. "We're busted," she informed, handing her brother back his cellphone.

"Have we been summoned by the Major?" Monty asked gloomily.

"You know it."

The two shuffled out of the theatre, May munching on her popcorn glumly. "You realize that as the older siblings we'll be getting most of the flak."

"Yup."

"She can't get away with this."

"She won't."

"We'll get her later?"

"We'll get her later," confirmed Monty.

Because even though Misty didn't necessarily force them into anything, she was the driving force behind the scheme she had concocted. And though she was the youngest, her older siblings were not going to take all the blame. Not without retaliation, at least.

But such was their relationship. As much as they stuck together, they also weren't afraid to strike down on one another.

And they wouldn't have it any other way.


	8. Favourite Girl

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb.**

 _ **Siblings:**_ Jeremy and Suzy

 **Favourite Girl**

Water running from the silver tap, Suzy Johnson alternated her gaze between the dishes she was cleaning and the clock that hung above the kitchen entryway. It was well past one in the afternoon, and her brother had yet to return home. Mouth curling into a frown, she scrubbed her mother's favourite coffee mug extra hard.

Jeremy was supposed to take her to the movies that afternoon-particularly to go see _Power Ponies Blockbuster_. The last show-time was at two-thirty, and she was beginning to doubt that he would remember their plans. They had been made a week ago, after all. Plenty of time had passed for him to forget.

"Not that he wanted to see it anyway," she muttered, placing the mug into the dish tray. "But if he can see Ducky Momo On Ice with Candace, he can very well go see _my_ movie."

The very thought of her brother's girlfriend sent a dark scowl crossing her face. She had spent four years trying to drive her away, but to no avail. She was serious in her relationship with Jeremy, and the two had not even considered taking a break when it came time to go to college. Now that it was summer, Jeremy spent much of his time with Candace, which only fueled the small blonde's hatred towards the redhead.

While the eleven-year-old had grown out of her possessive maliciousness as she matured, her desire to stay Jeremy's favourite girl still remained. Her actions towards Candace dwindled to cruel remarks, ferocious glowers and a small amount of intimidation and manipulation. She knew she needed to be careful of how she acted around the redhead when Jeremy was near. She was no longer little, and more accountable for her actions.

Finishing up the dishes, she dried her hands on a tea towel and set it on the counter. With nothing much to do until Jeremy showed up she went to the back door and stepped into the backyard. Her brow furrowed when she didn't see her pet poodle lounging in the grass.

"Fifi!" she called, hands on her purple skirt-covered hips. "It's time to come inside!"

There was no answering bark. When she took another look around her yard, she noticed a small, freshly-dug hole underneath the fence.

 _Uh oh._

Panicked, Suzy raced into the house and grabbed the phone. She dialled Jeremy's cellphone number, but all she got in return was a busy signal. Furious, she slammed it down into its holder. "Fine! I'll go look for Fifi myself!"

Trying to ignore the hurt welling up inside her, she shrugged on her light purple sweater and started the search for her pet poodle. She checked around her neighbourhood, occasionally asking people passing by if they had seen her dog. Eventually, she found someone who had.

"Small dog with black fur? Yeah, I seen her. Was running towards the dog park. Chasing a squirrel, I think."

Suzy quickly thanked the man and hurried in the direction he indicated. When she came upon the lush green park exclusively for dogs, she saw many owners with their pets, but not her Fifi. "Excuse me," she said anxiously, halting a woman walking her Saint Bernard. "Have you seen a black-furred poodle?"

"Ah, yes. It went running into the woods. Is it yours?"

"Yes," replied Suzy, her stomach sinking as she looked towards the dense forest that lined the far side of the dog park. "Thank you."

The blonde jogged towards the trees. Hesitating on the outskirts, she peered into the darkness. Taking a deep breath, she plunged inside, hollering, _"Fifi!"_

 _I wish Jeremy was with me._

 _"_ _Fifi!"_

 _I wish he liked me more than he likes Candace._

 _"_ _Fifi!"_

 _I wish he would spend more time with me._

 _"_ _FIFI!"_

 _"_ _Yap! Yap!"_

The familiar bark was music to her ears. Suzy ploughed through some bushes and stumbled towards a thick body of muddy water, which separated the forest in half. Fifi was on the other side, dry as a bone, which meant she had found a way across.

"Fifi!" she exclaimed in relief. "Bad dog! You shouldn't run off like that!"

But Fifi wasn't paying attention. Her front paws were balanced on the bark of the tree, eyes locked on the squirrel balancing on the branch above her. Suzy eyed it nervously. If the squirrel started to move, Fifi would go with it. That was the last thing she needed.

"Note to self," she muttered. "Train Fifi to ignore chasing squirrels."

She glanced at the water and took a hesitant step into it. It went up to her thigh, and she knew it was too deep for her to wade through.

"If Fifi can find her way across, I guess I can too." Suzy ran down the length of the water, not wanting to waste much time. She came across a row of sleek, skinny stones stretching across the water. She eyed them hesitantly. "Well…guess this is my bridge."

Her sneaker-clad foot had barely touched the first stone when someone hollered, _"Suzy!"_

Surprised, she looked over her shoulder to see her twenty-one-year-old brother rushing across the forest floor towards her. "Jeremy!"

The blonde dropped down beside his sister, hands falling onto her shoulders. "What are you doing in here?" he demanded. "It's dangerous."

"I was coming after Fifi!" she defended. "She's down there, trying to get a squirrel."

"Wait here. I'll get her."

Suzy watched Jeremy cross the stones and jog in the direction she had indicated. It only took a minute for him to retrieve Fifi, who was thankfully where Suzy had left her. Her blue eyes brightened when her brother returned, her poodle cradled in his arms.

"Fifi!" she exclaimed, catching her dog when Fifi leapt into her arms. "You scared me!" She looked at Jeremy with a relieved smile. "Thanks." Her brow then furrowed. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Jeremy crossed his arms. "I came to get you for the movies, but you weren't home. You didn't leave a note or anything, so I got worried. I used my cell to track yours."

Suzy felt her skirt pocket, where she could feel the outline of her own cellphone. "You tracked me?" she asked in disbelief.

"There's an app for everything," said Jeremy matter-of-factly. "I wanted to make sure you were alright. Why didn't you call me?"

"I did. I got the busy signal."

Jeremy rubbed his scruffy blonde beard in thought. "Must have been talking to Candace."

"Of course you were," she said, trying not to sound too bitter. "Anyway, you weren't answering and I had to look for Fifi."

"You could have waited for me."

"Didn't think you'd show up," the ponytailed-girl muttered, glancing at the ground.

Frowning, Jeremy knelt down so he could be at eye-level with his sibling. "Why would you think that?"

"Since you got home from college, it's been all about Candace. I figured you probably forgot about our plans and were doing something with her."

Jeremy inspected his sister closely. "You know…Candace is important to me. I'm sorry if I made you feel neglected. But you'll always be my favourite girl. You know that, right?"

Suzy felt her heart swell. "Uh-huh."

Jeremy embraced her. "Good. We'll make this week all about you and me."

"I'd like that," she said happily, using one arm to squeeze her brother back, as the other was holding Fifi securely to her chest.

Linking hands, the Johnson siblings started out of the forest. "Jer?"

"Yeah, Suze?"

"It's kinda creepy that you're able to track me whenever you feel like it."


	9. Django's Not-So-Legal Masterpiece

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb.**

 _ **Siblings:**_ Jenny and Django

 **Django's Not-So-Legal Masterpiece**

Standing in the doorframe of her brother's room, Jenny Brown was torn between what she wanted to do and what she knew she should do. Django was currently out, leaving his room completely free for snooping. But Jenny was very firm on her morals and very rarely strayed from them.

Sneaking into his room and rifling through his stuff without permission definitely was not acceptable.

But she needed to do this. Her brother had been acting odd lately, and no matter how times she pressed he continued to dismiss her concerns. So if she was going to figure out what was going on, she was going to have to take what she called the 'Candace Tactic'. She was going to have to be sneaky, devious and in full bust mode.

Taking a breath, Jenny slipped into the room. Much like her own, it reflected her brother's personality. The walls were pure white, allowing Django to paint or draw on them whenever he was struck with inspiration. On his computer desk was a drawing tablet and stacks of sketch books buried his laptop. Art books covered his bookshelf and there was a massive wardrobe that stored not clothes, but hundreds of top-of-the-range art supplies.

"Guess I'll start in the closet," she said to herself, moving over to the wooden door. She rifled through the clothes hanging on the metal rod and then bent down to sift through the items stashed in boxes on the floor. At the back of the closet she noticed a garbage bag shoved in the very corner. Curious, she tugged it out and opened it. Inside were half a dozen shirts and shorts, each item of clothing stained with bright colours of paint. "Okay…weird."

She put the bag back where she found it and stood up. She shut the closet door and went over to the bed. She peered underneath, but there was nothing. She lifted up the mattress and frowned when she found a folder. She removed it and took a look inside. There were about five clipped articles, each detailing information about the graffiti artist that had struck the town of Danville. There were coloured pictures of the art that the graffitist had done.

Running a hand through her long brown locks. "Don't jump to conclusions, Jenny," she muttered, sticking the folder back in its hiding place. She set the mattress back done and went over to the wardrobe. She opened the doors and inspected the art supplies. She could see three packs of new markers, paints and pencil crayons.

Her brother did not just leave new art supplies untouched. The second he got them he tore right into them. So Jenny didn't think she was being irrational when she found this suspicious. "I knew something was up," she muttered. She closed the doors and stood in the middle of the room, thinking hard.

The bag of clothes in the closet was suspicious because her brother usually didn't care if he got paint on his clothes. He certainly wouldn't pack them up to be thrown out. The clippings were not as suspicious, as her brother tended to keep articles about artists he admired. But they still caused an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Hey! What are you doing in my room?"

The twenty-first century hippie whirled around to see her eleven-year-old brother standing in the doorway, glaring at her with his hands on his hips. Jenny held out her hands in a pacifying manner. "I just wanted to see if you're okay."

Django huffed in frustration. "Of course I'm okay," he said. "You've only asked me that a million times. When will you quit?"

"When I'm sure you're telling the truth," replied Jenny. "You've had those bags under your eyes for the past two weeks. I haven't seen you paint or draw anything in the same amount of time."

"I've been sketching," said Django in slight irritation.

"You hardly ever restrain yourself to just sketching," pointed out Jenny.

"Why are you making a big deal out of nothing?" he asked in exasperation. "Go to a protest or something."

"I don't have any protests lined up this week," said Jenny calmly.

"Will you please leave? I've got stuff that I want to do."

Sighing, Jenny nodded. "Fine. But I will find out what you're up to."

"I'm not up to anything!"

Jenny left, and before Django closed the door she did not miss the protective, possessive way he clutched at his backpack strap.

…

Three nights later, Jenny was getting a glass of water at one in the morning when she heard footsteps coming from the second floor. They were not heavy, so it wasn't her father moving about. They were light, almost stealthy. Sensing an opportunity, Jenny shut off the tap and crouched behind the kitchen island, the glass resting beside her foot. Peeking around the marble structure, she watched as her brother moved for the front door, dressed in a dark blue hoodie and brown shorts. His backpack hung over his shoulders and a sketchbook was clutched in his hand.

Jenny watched him leave with a slight frown. _Okay…maybe it's a bit more serious than I first thought._

Standing up, she put the glass on the counter and hurried for the front door. She shrugged on her yellow jacket and hurried outside in bare feet. She could see her brother making his way down the street, his hood now pulled over his face.

"Suspicious," she mused, following after him.

Django left the suburbs in which they lived and went right into town. He ducked down an alleyway and Jenny stood next to the wall, peeking down the dark depths. Her brother set his backpack on the ground and studied a page in his sketchbook. After a while he set it down and dug through his bag. He removed two spray cans and aimed them at the wall.

Jenny's eyes widened in realization. _Of course._

Her brother was a talented artist, no one could deny it. He took pride in exploring all different art forms, and apparently he was practicing his graffiti skills. The fact that it was illegal didn't stop him, much like how Jenny refused to let threats from police officers stop her from staking her place in her protests. If she had to tie herself to a tree to prove her point, then she would do so.

Stealing into the alley, she crept behind her brother and set a hand on his shoulder. Shrieking, Django jumped and whirled around. "J?"

"D, what are you doing?"

"Did you follow me here?" he asked indigently.

Jenny shook her head. "Of course I did. I saw you sneaking out. I couldn't just leave it."

Django turned to stare at his work. The jolt had thankfully not messed up his art too much. "You almost ruined this."

"So you're the graffiti artist that's plagued this town." Jenny crossed his arms. "You know this is illegal, right?"

"That depends on who you talk to." Django lifted up the blue paint spray and slowly filled in the words he had made with his black spray paint.

"If you get caught, you're going to get arrested."

He rolled his eyes. "Like you've never gotten in trouble for your life work."

 _I suppose this is the problem of being a modern hippie with a free-spirited artist as a brother,_ she thought wearily. She was a very passive person who had never raised her voice in her life. She certainly wasn't going to shout at her brother for what he was doing, not when she had gotten arrested less than a month ago for freeing dogs that were being abused at the local pet shop that was part of a corporate chain.

"Then I guess I'm just going to stay here until you finish."

Django paused, peering at her. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"You won't tell Dad?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay." He smiled. "Thanks."

Jenny leaned against the grimy wall opposite the one her brother was spray painting. "Can I ask a few questions?"

"Sure."

"Those clothes in your closet. You're throwing them away because the spray paint won't come out, right?"

"You did snoop! I knew it." Django shot his sister a disappointed look. "Rude."

"I was concerned. So?"

"Yeah, I was afraid someone would realize that it wasn't regular paint stains. I haven't gotten around to getting rid of them yet."

"Why are you keeping news clippings that could incriminate you if you get busted?"

"I want to remember my legacy," defended Django.

Jenny laughed. "You're only eleven. You have the rest of your life to build a legacy. People are going to forget about this in a week."

"Well, I wanted to give it a shot, anyway. Some of the greatest artists out there are street artists."

Django soon finished his work. He stepped back to inspect the bright letters he had crafted. Jenny could not help but nod in approval. "Far out."

"Thanks." Beaming, Django packed up his stuff. "Come on, let's-"

 _"_ _Who's down there?"_

The two whirled around, catching sight of a police officer striding in their direction, his flashlight sweeping back and forth. Panicked, Django shoved his sister towards the end of the alley. They broke into a run and scrambled over the wall. They didn't make it over in time and the flashlight illuminated their backs and the fresh graffiti.

 _"_ _Hey! Stop!"_

"Run!" wailed Django.

They took off down the street, distinctly hearing the pounding footsteps of the cop chasing after them. "What do we do?" panted Django.

"Just follow me."

The two siblings went through alleys, darted down dark streets and when they reached the suburbs they started climbing over fences and walls. They cut through backyards and, though they had lost the cop a while back, they didn't stop running.

When they reached their own backyard Django fumbled with his house key and unlocked the sliding glass door. They filed into the green room (which was Jenny's personal, in-home greenhouse) and ducked through another door into the back hall.

"Well," Django wheezed, "that went better than expected."

"Let's not do that again." Jenny wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Are your feet okay?" he asked in concern.

Jenny wiggled her bare feet. They were scratched and covered in dirt, but nothing serious. "Sure. I've gone way longer with no shoes. I like how the Earth feels beneath my feet. I feel connected to it."

Django grinned. "I'm so glad you're as weird as I am."

"We're not weird. We're just not afraid to show free expression." She put her arm around his shoulders. "Those are the words you felt the need to paint on that wall."

"Don't worry, my street artist stint is over," promised Django. "I never intended for it to last long. But I'm surprised you picked up on the little things. Dad didn't have a clue."

"Well, I'm your sister. And I suppose, no matter how easy-going and trusting I might be, a sister always holds some suspicion over what their younger sibling might be doing."

Django hugged her. "Thanks for being super cool."

"No problem." Jenny ruffled his shaggy brown hair. "Go get cleaned up. I think we both deserve a late-night snack."

"Brownie sundaes?" asked Django hopefully.

"Why not?"

He stepped back with a wide grin. He headed for the stairs, but before he started the climb he glanced over his shoulder. "None of your vegan tricks," he warned, pointing at her.

Jenny smiled. "Alright, no vegan tricks."

Django nodded in satisfaction and jogged up the stairs as silently as he could. Jenny left for the kitchen, trying not to leave dirt footprints on the tiled floor from her soiled feet.

While she didn't entirely agree with what her brother had done, she also wasn't disappointed in him for it. The words he had painted on the wall rang true for the both of them. It was why they were so close, able to understand each other like few people could.

After all, very few could relate to each other as well as a pair of hippie-artist siblings.


	10. Bear!

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb or Winnie the Pooh.**

 **And here we have the last chapter. Thanks for all your comments, I really appreciate it!**

 _ **Siblings:**_ Amanda, Xavier and Fred.

 **Bear!**

Amanda Johnson hated camping.

There was no electricity, no cell service and no air-conditioning. She was forced to spend a week sleeping in a flimsy tent that offered little guard against howling winds and torrential rainstorms. But every summer it was tradition to travel to a camping site and experience nature with her family.

This year it was just her brothers and her father. Her mother claimed she wasn't feeling well and stayed home. Amanda suspected that this was just one of her mother's tricks to get out of camping, as she was prone to do every couple of years.

"So not fair," she grumbled to herself, bundling herself up in her sleeping bag. It was a particularly cold day, with a strong breeze and cloudy skies. She took refuge in her tent, which she got to herself. Despite wearing a pair of dark purple jeans and a white hoodie, she still shivered and hoped the extra padding of her sleeping bag would help warm her. "If Mom gets to skip out, so should I. I have rights!"

A sharp gust of wind rattled the tent, as if to mock her. Shaking her head, Amanda wondered how many days of torture she would have to endure. Her cell died a few days ago, so she couldn't even check her calendar app.

Her stomach growled and the redhead sighed. Reluctantly leaving the shelter of her tent, she stepped out into their grassy site to get some food. She immediately noticed her brothers walking towards the forest, speaking idly with each other.

"What are you doing?" she called suspiciously.

Xavier glanced over his shoulder. "Nothing."

Amanda huffed in irritation as they continued their way into the forest. "Of course. You guys _never_ do anything."

Shoulders slouched, she went over to the tree that held their food. She unwound the rope and lowered the cloth bag that bulged with snacks and ready-made no-cook meals. She dug through the contents before locating a package of beef jerky. She tore open the plastic and stuffed a few strips into her mouth. A bird flew down and landed a few feet away, chirping hopefully. Amanda glared down at the blue creature.

"Mine," she snapped, accidently spewing out a few pieces of jerky. "Go away!"

The bird chirped indigently and flew off. She watched it go and swallowed her food. "Alright. I'm snapping at cute woodland birds. I'm probably close to going insane. Oh, look at that. I'm talking to myself. That's not a good sign."

… _I need to get out of this place. I need social interaction. I need people to talk to other than my emotionally-challenged brothers._

Sticking the beef jerky under her arm, she used the other to heft the bag back up into the air. She tied a tight knot to keep the bag secure and shuffled back towards her tent, munching on jerky in the hopes of soothing her rumbling stomach.

" _Aaaggghhh!"_

All thoughts of food left her mind as her brothers' screams echoed across the landscape. Dropping the jerky, she took off running, heart pumping with fear at what she might find once she reached the location where their screams were coming from.

 _Let them be okay, don't let it be anything serious._

She burst off the well-worn path and into a clearing. She immediately stumbled to a stop when she caught sight of a large brown bear, standing about a hundred feet away from Xavier and Fred, who were frozen with fear.

Trembling, Amanda tried to calm down. She heard that animals could smell fear, though she wasn't sure if that was the case with bears, but she wasn't going to risk it. Taking a few quick, deep breaths, she steeled her nerves as best she could. Slowly, she moved around the bear, giving it as wide a berth as she could. The bear was snorting at her brothers, its low growl rumbling in the open space.

 _I did not sign up to get eaten by a bear today._

Swallowing thickly, she sidled up to her brothers. "Mands," whimpered Xavier, immediately grabbing onto her hoodie. "What do we do?"

"Sshh," she soothed, eyes not leaving the woodland creature. It pawed at the ground, glaring right at them. "Okay. Rule number one. No running from a bear."

"What's rule number two?" squeaked Fred, eyes wide with terror.

"Uh…uh." Amanda frantically thought back to a wilderness documentary she had seen a few weeks ago. "Climb this tree."

"But can't bears climb trees?"

"Yes. So whatever you do, don't stop climbing," she ordered, heart stuttering in her chest when the bear lunged at them. But it stopped a short distance away, growling fiercely. "Do it _slowly._ "

Xavier and Fred started to carefully climb the trunk of the tree they were cowering against. The skin on their bare hands and knees were scraped by the bark, but the two ignored the pain as they continued their cautious ascent.

The bear gave a roar and charged just as Amanda started to climb herself. Heart leaping in her throat, she got a burst of speed and propelled herself up a few more feet, just out of reach of the bear's claws. "That is _not_ Winnie the Pooh," she panted, keeping her attention upwards.

The three Johnson siblings continued to climb the tree. Not able to help himself, Fred kept glancing down to see how far or how close the bear was to his sister. But the brown beast had gone back to the ground, and was now staring up at them.

"It's not chasing us," he whisper-called to Amanda.

The redhead peeked below and she let out a sigh of relief. She swung herself over and took refuge on a branch. "Okay. We're gonna hang out here until it goes away."

"You're amazing," said Xavier in awe.

Surprised, Amanda glanced at her blonde brother. "I didn't do anything."

"Sure you did," piped up Fred. "You came to our rescue. You didn't even flinch when you saw the bear!"

"Believe me, I was freaking out on the inside," she said feelingly. "If I didn't hate camping before, I definitely do now. What were you guys doing in here anyway?"

"Nothing," said Xavier before he could stop himself. At the irritated expression his sister sent him, he quickly added, "Just going for a walk."

"What do you know, you actually did something." Amanda crossed her arms. "Too bad it ended with us having to escape an angry grizzly. I think I'd rather you do nothing for the rest of this stupid trip."

Xavier peered through the leaves. The bear was still there, sniffing at the trunk of the tree. Figuring that they would be there for a bit, he decided to ask the question that had been burning within him for the past couple of years. One that he hadn't bothered to ask for worry that it would set his high-strung sister off and only make matters worse.

"You know, most older brothers and sisters are happy when their siblings don't do anything," voiced Xavier. "How come it just makes you angry with us?"

"Because, Mom is always pressing me to go out and do things. But she doesn't say a thing to you two." Amanda frowned. "I'm neurotic, energetic and eccentric, and everyone keeps telling me that I need to calm down. I'm sick of it. I can't be like you two, just laid-back and not giving a care about the world."

"So you get mad at us for doing nothing because you can't do what we can do?" asked Fred in bewilderment.

"Well, it sounds stupid when you say it out loud," grumbled Amanda.

"It's not stupid," assured Xavier. "We get it. Sometimes we get jealous of you."

"Seriously?"

"Uh-huh. You have a lot of friends and you can talk to anyone. We can't really do that."

"Huh," mused Amanda, a slight smile on her lips. "Never considered that before."

"Hey!" Fred exclaimed, pointing downwards. "The bear is gone!"

"I'll check it out." Amanda made her descent, sweeping her eyes around the area as she did so. But there was no sign of the bear, and when she hit the ground she motioned for her brothers to follow her.

"Dad is not going to believe this," said Xavier, dropping to the ground with his brother right behind him.

"If I'm lucky, he'll take us to a resort in Florida near the beaches next year," she said hopefully. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Xavier and Fred extended their arms and Amanda linked up with them. Together they departed the woods, wondering if the rest of their trip would be boring after this exciting experience.

 **Until next time,**

 **AnimationNut out.**

 **Peace!**


End file.
